


Look What You’ve Done

by xofabulous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Drunkenness, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3801403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xofabulous/pseuds/xofabulous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is up in his hotel room, thinking about what could be's, what if's, and then someone comes knocking at the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look What You’ve Done

**Author's Note:**

> As of right now, this is a one-off with a possibility for more. Enjoy it, babies.

Ever felt like you were drowning? Ever felt like you couldn’t stand the idea of watching someone you love be happy with someone else? Zayn Malik felt like that every day. Every single fucking day. He’d been trying to hold it together while on tour because it was the thing to do, it was the only thing he had left; the music and the fans. He had to suffer through watching them night after night and he had thought keeping quiet was the way to go, suffer in silence because there was no way Harry was going to notice him otherwise, not when Louis was there and giving him _that_ smile. The one that made Harry melt every single time and would rush off together as if they couldn’t get away quick enough. Zayn wanted to be that person with every fiber of his being. 

They were at the hotels, the one night off in a sea of a million days that bled into one another. Zayn had stayed in his hotel room, window cracked, joint to his lips. He wasn’t a huge drinker so he opted to stay behind and relax in his room, Netflix streaming something he wasn’t paying attention. He felt distanced lately due to wanting to keep more to himself, keep down the media talk as there had been quite a lot lately. 

Zayn exhaled a sharp cloud into the night, forgoing listening to the anti-smoking policy in the hotel. Not like he could ever go and smoke privately these days. The doorknob jerking and twitching brought him back to the present, not rolling over the last couple of weeks in his head. He wandered over and opened it, holding the joint behind his leg between two fingers. When he saw Harry he breathed a sigh of relief, but then quirked an eyebrow at the way the youngest member of the band was leaning against the wall, hand out about to knock again. 

“Harry, what are you up too?” 

Harry blinked as if he didn’t realize where he was, looking at the numbers on the door. He turned to stare back at Zayn. “I don’t—Louis is mad at me, I got carried away with myself at the pub, and I kissed somebody…he told me now to come home—uh, to the room.” 

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Sooo…you come here, yeah? Do you even know why you’re here, like are you solid?” 

“I’m not sure,” Harry answered, curling his fingers against the doorframe, “It’s all a bit fuzzy but this seemed—you seemed safe.” 

It was anything but safe in Zayn’s room but he didn’t say anything about that with Harry leaning against his door, smiling at him like a little angel, a drunken twinkle in his eye. “Come in then,” he whispered, opening the door wider and allowing Harry into his temporary private world. He shut the door behind them and walked back over to the window, snubbing out the remainder of the joint and lighting up a cigarette to prolong the buzzing feeling in his body. 

“I’d wish you’d stop smoking, love, that’s terribly bad for you.” Harry stumbled as he tried to take his boots off, tripping around the room. 

Zayn rolled his eyes as he watched from the window seat at the absolute love of his life performing the most hilarious drunken dance. He had all plans on saying something but that left his lungs when he watched Harry right himself and take off his grey sweater and toss it aside, leaving him in a loose tank, his infamous black jeans, and a little bun. Harry had been rocking that bun a lot lately and Zayn loved it. 

Now he remembered what he had wanted to say before he had gotten distracted. “Yeah, I keep saying I’m going to quit, I will…I’m not ready too right now.” _I’ll quit when you leave Louis_. That was what he had most wanted to say but could never make himself admit it. Admit how long he had been in love with Harry and why it crushed his heart every time he had to see—to _hear_ him and Louis. 

Harry stumbled over and stretched himself out on the bed, twisting on his side and smiling at Zayn and patting a place behind him. “Come be my big spoon, I want a cuddle.” 

Finishing off his smoke and closing the window, Zayn walked over to the bed, exhaling deep before crawling up behind Harry and sliding a hand across his stomach to hold, his other arm coming through under his neck to grab onto his chest. “This is torture.” 

“What is?” Harry rasped, voice getting husky the closer he got to sleep. 

_Fuck_. Zayn didn’t think he had said that out loud. He licked his lips, finding they were dangerously close to Harry’s bare neck, all but brushing his flesh. “I—I…well I just find that—aren’t you wishing to be with Louis?” 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Harry twisted his head over his shoulder, green eyes twinkling in the soft city lights. 

Zayn didn’t know what he was doing until he was straining ahead and capturing that pouty mouth into a kiss, pumping their lips together as if he would never get another chance to do it, because he probably wouldn’t. He fully anticipated Harry to break up the kiss, stop it, or at least ask him what he had thought he was doing, but to Zayn’s full surprise Harry cupped his cheek and twisted around, bringing their bodies closer which only made Zayn groan, rolling over so he was nestled in between those long legs; Harry’s thighs caging his hips in place. 

Looking down though a tendril of black hair, Zayn locked eyes with Harry before watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He had wanted to ask what they were doing but his body had another idea. He fell down on top of the younger boy, nipping on his bottom lip as his hands spread down, shoving the tank up to his pits, moving his mouth down the side of his neck, bypassing the material to touch flesh. Zayn drug a nipple into his mouth and teased it until Harry cried out. 

“Wh—What are…what are we doing?” Harry stumbled, arching up against Zayn’s attention on his body. 

Pulling back and looking up with just his eyes, Zayn swallowed down all his nerves. “I don’t know, Harry, but I’ve been wanting this—you—for so long, I…fuck, I hadn’t planned on saying it like this, but I need to tell you before I—before anything else happens,” Zayn whispered, afraid if he spoke louder then it wouldn’t be real. That Harry lying underneath him pliant, ready… _hard_ , wasn’t anything but a dream. It wasn’t lost on deaf ears either that he and Louis were having their problems but Zayn had never thought in a million years he’d been in the position he was in. 

Harry let his bottom lip go from the trap of his teeth. “I want you too,” he whispered back, “I think I have for a long time…I think it’s because you’re the unobtainable and—and it’s not the same anymore with Lou—” 

“—Shh, don’t talk about Louis,” Zayn cut in, “we’ll figure it all out in the morning, okay? For now I want to touch you.” 

“And I’m not terribly drunk, like I know what’s going on and alcohol isn’t swaying my decision,” Harry stated, just to make it clear. 

Zayn chuckled. “Okay, Harry.” 

“Okay,” Harry said with a laugh, arching up against the older boy when Zayn pinched his side. 

“Take off your shirt,” Zayn breathed as he sat back, hands moving down his sides, holding his hips before going inward and sliding the zipper down on Harry’s jeans. He watched attentively as Harry did as he was asked, tossing the shirt off. It made Zayn groan to watch all of that pale skin before his eye become uncovered, the younger boy arching up from the bed to help take off his jeans. Zayn stripped him completely, exhaling sharp as he stared. Sure they had all seen Harry naked, but not when he was looking up at you with lust in his eyes and a hard cock. 

Zayn took his time learning Harry’s body, kissing all over every inch, all the way down to his toes and back up, drawing his tongue up the underside of his cock until he gently grazed his teeth up at the head. “I want to fuck you,” he said roughly, licking his lips, “please.” 

“Yeah…yeah, yeah,” Harry panted, moaning at the absolutely tortuous way Zayn Malik sucked in his cock, and then more shockingly right down to the base, swallowing him in deep. “Want you too…want you.” 

“Say it,” Zayn commanded, drawing two fingers in his mouth and leading them down, circling them around Harry’s hole before going inside. He groaned and bit into his own bicep at how damn _tight_ he was. Clearly Louis wasn’t doing his job right and Zayn decided he was going to remedy that situation. 

“Fuck me,” Harry moaned, “fuck me, Zayn.” He howled when a third finger was jabbed into his prostate, legs trembling as he tried to keep his thighs from snapping closed on the older singer’s head. God, he was so ridiculously close it was all but painful. When Zayn pulled away from him he whined and squirmed on the bed, wanting him back between his thighs. For a moment, he stared in shock, as if he was in a daze. This was really happening. That moment became clear when he watched Zayn strip and climb back up on the bed. Harry shot up and slid his hand around the back of his neck, dragging him into a kiss. 

Zayn took that moment as a way to distract, guiding himself inside, not stopping until his pelvis met flesh. He drug Harry up into his lap, groaning into the kiss at the absolute vice grip the younger boy had on his cock. He pulled back when he felt the telltale pulsing around his length, watching in awe as Harry came between them. He looked up. “Harry?” He asked, a little hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Don’t stop,” Harry pleaded, “just don’t stop, m’gonna come for you again…it’s so d-deep,” he whispered, looking between them, forehead rested to Zayn’s as he calmed his system, and when he was ready his body started to move. 

The dark haired boy watched in awe as Harry’s body took over, still trembling on the inside even as his hips drew up and then down, moving on his lap in slow tantalizing strokes. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said roughly, only able to take that treatment for a few moments before laying Harry on his back, drawing his legs up to his hips. He liked the way those legs curled around his body, much like the tightness of Harry’s insides clung to his dick. Zayn braced his hands to the bed on either side of Harry’s head and drew his hips back, holding himself away before coming in with a hard slap of skin, watching as the younger Brit shook with a hard moan and a whispered plea for more. “You like that?” He panted, doing it again. 

“Yes…Zayn, please,” Harry shook, hands going up to palm Zayn’s chest, feeling his heart pound as his muscles flexed with each thrust. “f-fuck.”

Zayn kept the pace like that, drawing out slow before slamming back in, sometimes he’d wait and then when Harry least expected it; hammer back in which earned him a sound not even an angel could reproduce. He was getting drunk on all things Harry and feeling lost in the feeling of finally getting to be inside the person he wanted to be with most. 

Removing one hand from the bed, Zayn moved the other down, drawing it through the come on Harry’s belly before wrapping it around his cock. If he had thought Harry’s whiny pleas and pitchy moans were sexy before, the double stimulation made the younger singer all but cry. 

As Harry came for a second time, Zayn fell down, curling his body and fucking Harry into the bed, teeth biting on the skin of his shoulder as he came, making a nice sizable mark. He rested a moment or two before making a move to pull away, drawing Harry into his arms. “Stay,” he whispered. 

Harry gave a little smile, brushing the fallen hair back from Zayn’s eyes. “I wasn’t…I mean unless you wanted me too.” 

“No,” Zayn breathed, drawing him into a kiss. 

“Then I’ll stay with you.” 

Zayn watched as Harry closed his eyes, closing his own and wondering what the morning light would bring, if this was the one shot he got…the one night, he was going to take it and Zayn Malik wasn’t ever going to forget it.


End file.
